


Down Time

by Rocky_T



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 22:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18303452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocky_T/pseuds/Rocky_T
Summary: What was going through Janeway's mind on the Delta Flyer during the season 6 episode "Tsunkatse"?





	Down Time

**Author's Note:**

> A few liberties have been taken with the actual events, i.e. that Janeway was alone in the Flyer and this was her first "escape" since "Resolutions." Janeway's earlier captaincy of the _Nobel_ is a creation of mc moose and used with her permission.
> 
> Originally written and posted in March 2000.

It felt good to get away.

She should be feeling guilty over just how good it felt, but instead there was only an overwhelming sense of relief. As the image of _Voyager_ slowly receded from the _Delta Flyer_ viewscreen, Kathryn Janeway could feel the stifling sense of claustrophobia that enveloped her for some time finally slip away. She smiled briefly at the irony. Here she was, all alone on a much smaller vessel, and she was relishing the sense of space it gave her.

Most likely it was because she was leaving everything behind. For the first time in a very long while, she was able to relax and not worry about the responsibilities of command, of being the captain every minute whether she was on duty or off, awake or asleep. The last time she had experienced such freedom had been on New Earth. Then the abdication hadn't been voluntary and had shown every sign of being permanent, which took a great deal of the "fun" out of it. Now, she had a glorious few days to herself, and would be able to come back, refreshed, to the position that not only defined her life but had become her entire existence.

Janeway frowned. That last thought was distinctly unpleasant. She didn't like being reminded of just how much she had changed since the beginning of the journey. She had been a captain for several years before the fateful encounter with the Caretaker's energy wave, had presided over other vessels before _Voyager_. The _Billings_ and the _Nobel_ had been two very different ships, with different missions, yet they had been essentially the same in terms of how _she_ was in the command chair. She had been every inch the captain, yet not at the expense of her personal life. Everything had just been very neatly compartmentalized: a career in Starfleet, a lover back home. She had never felt isolated or alone, no matter how many light years separated her from Starfleet Command, or Mark. Yet even the greatest distances in the Alpha Quadrant paled in comparison with those in the Delta. It was a struggle to remember now that there was a woman named Kathryn Janeway. Most of the time, only the Captain was present.

Perhaps the Doctor had suspected this, at least partly, when he suggested she take some time off. She had nearly laughed at the incredulous look on his face when he hadn't received the expected argument. Of course she hadn't argued; she was all too aware that she needed some time to herself. And it could only be off the ship. Onboard, she was constantly on display, constantly the object of attention. The crew's mood reflected the captain's, they always looked to her, and the enormity of the weight had been crushing. She was vastly relieved that Tuvok hadn't objected to her going off alone, hadn't expressed concern at the captain being away from the ship and by herself. If even one other crewmember had come with her, she wouldn't be able to feel as free. The captain would have to be present. That would have been true even if it had been Tuvok himself, trusted officer of many years that he was, old and dear friend as well. Perhaps it would have been especially true if Tuvok had accompanied her.

But he had made no objections and so she had lugged her duffel bag down to the shuttle bay, trying not to seem too impatient, as she gave last-minute advice and orders to her first officer. He had teased her about being overprotective and she had agreed, although deep inside, all she could really think about was how she was bursting to get away.

Janeway leaned back in her seat, and put her feet up on the console, careful that her boots didn't make contact with any sensitive areas. She put her arms behind her head and closed her eyes, exhaled deeply. The shuttle was running on autopilot, and she didn't need to pay attention until the final approach to the Pendari system. The computer would notify her when that occurred. She had several hours to just relax, and let her thoughts wander where they would. She sighed and snuggled back against the padded chair, relishing this rare opportunity.

Of course, if they were back in the Alpha Quadrant, she would have had plenty of opportunities for vacations, for breaks from routine. Back home, even the longest deep space missions didn't take more than a couple of years. _Voyager_ was now in the sixth year of its journey. That meant six years of constant pressure, of struggle, of never being able to truly relax. Any expert would tell you that wasn't a good situation, not healthy. No, not healthy at all. When they finally got back home, the entire crew would probably need extensive counseling.

 _When they got back home_. She held the thought in her mind, savoring it. In the early years it had been too painful to think about, they'd had too many disappointments, had their hopes dashed too many times. Now they were finally starting to make some real progress, and had traversed nearly half the distance back to the Alpha Quadrant. If she allowed herself to hope, she could think of returning home sometime within the next decade. Still a long time, but it was a hell of a lot better than 70 years. She tried not to think about all the dangers, both known and unknown, which lurked out there, and instead tried to focus on home.

Of course, getting home wouldn't be the answer to her problems. It would simply replace the pressures of day-to-day survival with a whole new set of issues. Would Starfleet greet them like returning heroes? What about the Maquis? How would they be regarded? Janeway knew she would do everything within her power to make sure that they received full pardons, that their contributions to _Voyager_ were acknowledged and rewarded. But how much clout would she really have? For that matter, how would Starfleet regard _her_ , once they started going through the ship's logs and the details of her command decisions were laid bare?

She was under no illusions; she knew damn well that there had been some questionable choices on her part. She smiled humorlessly as she remembered Ransom's question, "Have you ever broken the Prime Directive?" and her smooth reply, "Bent it? Yes. But never broken." _Never bullshit a bullshitter, Kathryn_. The Admiralty was going to have a field day with some of her decisions, and things could get rather unpleasant, if any of the brass was so inclined. But she wouldn't think of that now. Better to concentrate on good things, on happy thoughts. But she was having difficulty coming up with any. She gazed out at the starry panorama which had an almost hypnotic effect...

She woke with a start. She couldn't remember dozing off, but a quick check of the chronometer assured her otherwise. The stars' positions, however, didn't seem to have shifted by much. Funny how it was only in a shuttle that one had a view like this. Despite _Voyager_ 's far grander screens, there was no sense of intimacy, and only rarely one of wonder. The tops of her boots interfered somewhat with her vision, but she was too comfortable to move, at least for now. Once more her eyes closed, and her thoughts began to drift.

Not surprisingly, what came to mind was Chakotay's comment that he was looking forward to sitting in her Ready Room and putting his feet up on her desk. Some of her sense of well-being ebbed away. Chakotay, and her relationship with him, were some of the thoughts she usually kept sternly at bay.

It had always been complicated, from the very beginning. He was the Maquis leader she had set out to capture, but became her ally almost immediately during the initial Caretaker crisis. Within days he underwent another transformation, into the first officer whose appointment she hoped would guarantee the smooth integration of _Voyager_ 's new crewmembers. As their friendship grew, he assumed the role of her closest confidant, with the potential of something more. But she had felt compelled to push him away in the name of protocol, and in response to her own fears. The relationship, unsurprisingly, hadn't fared well after that. Sometimes it seemed that all that remained was their command relationship, and even that had been threatened by their bitter disagreements. The ill-fated alliance with the Borg. Their encounter with the _Equinox_.

Somehow, they had always managed to repair the surface damage and go on. But each one took a toll. Now what did they have left? He was still her first officer, loyal to the core, and she would like to think that he was still her friend. Anything more was out of the question. He had clearly moved on in thought and deed a long time ago.

She chided herself for having regrets at this late date. They maintained a pretty good balance, all in all. She and Chakotay still occasionally spent time together off duty, and were more or less comfortable in each other's presence. If it wasn't what it would have been, could have been, well, chalk it up as another casualty of the Delta Quadrant. Captains accepted the inevitable, didn't waste time mourning the past, and went on with life. But Captain Janeway had been left behind, and just for today, Kathryn allowed herself to feel.

She told herself it was only because she didn't have that many relationships onboard _Voyager_ that she could afford to casually write one off, especially one with a member of her senior staff, especially one so important to her. The nearest possible equivalency was with Tuvok, based on their long association and friendship. Thank heavens for Vulcan imperturbability. Sometimes she felt that Tuvok was the only one who didn't demand a piece of her.

Demands. There were times, she thought ruefully, that if anyone had told her just how much trouble it would be to detach Seven from the Collective and reintegrate her into humanity, she might not have been so eager to try. Janeway was so tired of playing mentor to Seven, so tired of trying to nurture her. She was vastly relieved that Tuvok and Seven were planning on spending their shore leave together, studying a nearby astronomical phenomenon. She had been worried up until the last moment that they were going to invite her to join them.

Fortunately, she didn't have to worry about her "problem child" for a while. She found herself musing about some of her other "children", or, as Chakotay used to call them, reclamation projects. Tom Paris, ex-convict turned lieutenant turned ensign, had been the first.

Janeway thought of the look on Paris' face as she demoted him and sentenced him to the brig, remembered how cold and unfeeling her voice had sounded even in her own ears as she pronounced those fateful words. She also remembered the look on B'Elanna Torres' face when the half-Klingon realized the captain had gone against her wishes and authorized medical treatment that went against every ethical sensibility she had. And the look on Harry Kim's face when she confronted him about disobeying her direct orders regarding the Varro ship, and he asked her if she had ever been in love.

The captain could comfort herself with the knowledge that she and Tom had managed to repair the breech in their friendship, knew that Tom still respected her. And based on how B'Elanna had clung to her after her recent near-death experience, well, there was hope that they would be able to build upon that and develop a closer relationship. But Harry's question still haunted her.

Superficially, it was a ridiculous question. During the course of a life like hers, she had certainly had her share of romantic involvements. She had been fortunate to experience two great loves. Even if they had both ended badly. Even if it had been many years since she had been loved.

How had she gotten to the point where she had to strain to remember what it was like? She thought about Justin, and how he had literally swept her off her feet. It had been a heady feeling, a hot fierce fire that burned through her mind and heart, utterly consuming her. She had loved him so completely, but their time together had been all too brief, just a matter of months. His death had had a profound effect on the course her life had taken, the person she had become. If Justin hadn't died in that crash, things would be so very different now. Or would they?

With the wisdom of accumulated years, with the perspective granted by distance, she examined their relationship more closely. Small, yet persistent doubts rose, asking if they would have made it through the long haul. She acknowledged that the relationship had always revolved around Justin, his feelings, his happiness. She had been more than willing to give him everything she had, make up for the bitter circumstances and losses of his early life. All she wanted in return was his love, but would he have been able to be there for her when she needed support and comfort? That was a question she would never be able to answer.

She grimaced. It didn't matter _now_ if it didn't meet her criteria for a long-lasting and stable union. At that time in her life, it had been everything she had been looking for, and she felt vaguely disloyal questioning it years later.

Her relationship with Mark had been more balanced and mature. Although if she were honest with herself, this time _she_ had been the needy one, the one who needed bolstering and encouragement and love. Mark had been a wonderful anchor, giving her what she needed and never pushing her to give more than she felt comfortable giving. How had he had the patience, she wondered for the thousandth time, to wait for her all of those years, to never press for more of her time, more of her attention? He had understood that Starfleet, and her duty, always came first, even when it caused them to suffer interminable separations.

She had truly loved him, and would have been perfectly happy spending the rest of her life with him. She had planned to tell him when she got back from her mission to the Badlands that she was finally ready to set a wedding date. The thought that he would never know had haunted her for months. Mark's letter had reawakened that pain, revealing as it did how he had help out hope for so long after _Voyager_ 's disappearance. She once again was grateful that he had eventually moved on with his life, had found the happiness he so richly deserved, even though a part of her still mourned the fact that it wasn't with her.

No, she didn't begrudge him a chance to be happy. Even if the unworthy, and self-pitying thought arose that she had never had much luck when it came to relationships. Two very different men, two very different loves, yet in the end the result was the same. She was alone.

Unbidden, she recalled a voice saying, "You're not alone, Kathryn. You never were." When had Chakotay first said that to her? She tasted once again the bitterness that came with the knowledge that things could have worked out so differently. For the first time in her life she could have had a relationship on an equal footing, one that could have really _worked_ , except for the dictates of Starfleet and of her own twice-burned heart.

She shifted in her seat, trying to find a more comfortable position. It hurt to think like this, yet in a strange way there was a sense of relief in finally acknowledging what she spent so much time and energy trying to keep at bay. _And where has it all gotten you?_ Nowhere she really wanted to be.

She sometimes thought she was in danger of losing touch with the part of her that was capable of feeling, especially at night when she lay alone in a cold and empty bed with no one to hold her close. The corners of her mouth turned down. Oh, yes, she had the latest in a string of holographic lovers to meet her physical longings, but no computer program could give her the emotional component she needed.

She shook her head in exasperation at her own folly. What had possessed her to select a hologram from a public program, a hologram created by Tom Paris, for heaven's sake? A modicum of privacy, of discretion, the respect of her crew---these were many of the things that had held her back from a relationship with her first officer, and which had been flung away when she had impulsively decided to visit the Irish pub and had felt the dark eyes of the barkeep upon her. Was she that desperate for someone to notice her, to see her as a woman instead of just the Captain?

She thought back to her most recent conversation with Chakotay, just a few hours earlier. Chakotay had told her to make sure she got a chance to relax while on this trip. Instead of going on about the damn engine maintenance, she should have replied, "Now who's being overprotective?" In her mind's eye she saw him smile, that special grin which made her internal sensors go into "full dimple alert" and she heard him say, "I'll leave that to the Doctor," and then the smile left his eyes and was replaced with a more serious, intense look. "I can't tell you how glad I am that you're taking this opportunity to go off on your own and have some much needed down time, Kathryn." She could feel the warmth of his skin as he took her hand in his...

She envisioned the scene so clearly, it was a shock to remember that the conversation hadn't played out that way. Now the phrase "down time" was threatening to take on a whole other meaning. She ran her hand through her hair wearily, as if to dispel any lingering thoughts, and addressed the computer, "How much longer until arrival in the Pendari system?"

_"Two point seven hours."_

Enough introspection for one day. She had several more ahead of her in which to do just that. Janeway rose and headed toward the replicator units, intending to get something to eat. A flashing light on the console caught her attention. With the ease of many years' practice, she reached forward and closed the contact.

 _"Voyager to Delta Flyer. Come in, please."_ She started at hearing Chakotay's voice.

"Janeway here. What is it, Commander?"

_"Sorry to disrupt your vacation, Captain, but I'm afraid we've got a situation that requires your attention."_

So much for her rest and relaxation, and the sensation of leaving it all behind. All crisp efficiency once more, she responded, "All right, Chakotay. You'd better fill me in on what's happening."


End file.
